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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884463">Hold Me Tighter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueButterflyDreamer/pseuds/BlueButterflyDreamer'>BlueButterflyDreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Groping, Kissing, M/M, Touching</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25884463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueButterflyDreamer/pseuds/BlueButterflyDreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>John held Arthur tighter, and he vowed to never, ever let him go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Marston/Arthur Morgan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Morston Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold Me Tighter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Morstonweek2020 Prompt Day 5 Cuddling for Warmth</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Why’s it so goddamn cold in here?” John’s muffled voice rose from beneath a pile of blankets on the bed he was currently lying on.</p><p> </p><p>No answer.</p><p> </p><p>John rolled over, throwing the blankets off and shuffled his way round on the bed until he could see the reason why.</p><p> </p><p>“For Christ’s sakes, Morgan, one of the windows has blown open.”</p><p> </p><p>Still no response.</p><p> </p><p>A scraggly piece of stained material, that once might have served as a curtain, flapped cheerfully on the gusting breeze that accompanied the snow, now wafting in through the open window that must have blown wide open sometime in the middle of the night and had begun accumulating in some depth on the wooden floor beneath it.</p><p> </p><p>John rubbed at his face as his still fuzzy, sleep-depraved brain recalled the reason why they were there in the first place. A blizzard that had wound herself up into a mean bitch intent on pounding anyone or anything that got in her way. The blizzard and the fact they had stumbled upon two O’Driscolls in the act of robbing a family.</p><p> </p><p>It had turned into a wild ride through the Grizzlies West region, south of Colter, chasing the pair of O’Driscolls, that had somehow, miraculously managed to survive on their own without the aid of the rest of their gang who were long since gone.</p><p> </p><p>John and Arthur had given chase after a shoot-out and tracked them, not willing to let them go. The family of four, they had robbed, had not survived.</p><p> </p><p>Once dealt with, Arthur suggested they find shelter and he knew of such a place.</p><p> </p><p>The place, was in fact the very same cabin that Arthur had shared with Dutch, Molly and Hosea, upon arriving at Colter, after their flight from the Pinkertons and the incident at Blackwater.<br/><br/></p><p>It still sat amidst the dilapidated disarray of what once had been a mining settlement and it was here that Arthur had suggested they take shelter perhaps amidst some memories that had not yet leant themselves to the even more tarnished ones that soon followed their departure from Colter.</p><p> </p><p>John left Arthur to check out the cabin for a few minutes while he looked after the horses in the barn; brushing them down, feeding them and throwing a blanket over their backs for the night.</p><p> </p><p><br/>When he returned, he had found Arthur standing with his hat in hand, staring at a chair where Hosea had once sat, reading to pass the time.<br/>John had noticed this, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder inquiring if he would be alright.<br/>Arthur nodded, not speaking and set to make the cabin a more secure camp for however long they would be here.</p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t much to the place; a few pieces of furniture, a couple of side rooms with a single bed in each which immediately drew both their eyes to.</p><p><br/>It may have been in worse condition than when Arthur had first found it, but all-in-all it would offer a reasonable amount of shelter and it would suit their purpose.</p><p><br/>After all, beggars, or in their case, outlaws cannot be choosers.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur, from his side of the narrow wooden bed against the wall, still buried beneath the blankets, grunted some unintelligible answer.</p><p> </p><p>John raised his hand and smacked at the lump lying beside him, trying to rouse Arthur who had dropped back off to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, he was not going to receive any assistance from the man.</p><p> </p><p>John smacked him again for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur let loose a line of cusses then rolled over, one sleepy blue eye opening to a slit, still half-asleep.</p><p> </p><p>“I dunno, I said.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, I figured it out.” John exclaimed reproachfully.</p><p> </p><p>John huffed, kicking the blankets off and stood, his union suit flapping around his waist.</p><p> </p><p>He yipped. “Goddamn it, the floor feels like a sheet of ice.”</p><p> </p><p>Advancing towards the open window, John saw the shutters that had half covered the window were no where to be seen, no doubt taking by the howling gusts of wind that seemed determined to drive their way through any cracks in the walls during the hell’s tempest that had howled and kept them, among other reasons, awake through the night.</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing the edges of the window he tried to close it. There was some resistance, as the frame crusted with snow and ice protested, but a good swift bang with the palm of his hand dealt with the issue.</p><p> </p><p>Once the window was secure, and doubly checking it, John placed his now cold hands on the center of his back and stretched. Joints popped and creaked relieving some of the tension there.</p><p> </p><p>The beds, dragged from the side rooms, including the one Arthur had bunked in originally, resting in a corner of the main room, had not been the most comfortable with its narrowness and barely-there mattress. Their bedrolls had done little to lend to any comfort, but it was not long before that had been forgotten amidst their indulgences.</p><p> </p><p>He glanced back over at the bed and smirked as he thought of another way to relieve some tension.</p><p> </p><p>This entire hunting trip had, at first, been filled with nervous tension. Palpable tension that had finally eased into a relaxing and most strenuous form of sheer bliss.</p><p> </p><p>John and Arthur had recently discovered that they shared a mutual pining for each other, and now, now they had resolved to explore their feelings for one another.</p><p> </p><p>It had, in the end, proved to be more than satisfying for each other.</p><p> </p><p>As he returned to the bed, John stubbed his toe on the chair beside it, piled with their jackets and satchels. Their other supplies lay by a wall nearby.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, ow, shit that hurts.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur mumbled something from beneath the blankets.</p><p> </p><p>“What’d ya say, Morgan?”</p><p> </p><p>His tousled-haired head appeared, “I said throw some wood on the damn fire and get back to bed, it’s growing cold in here without ya.”</p><p> </p><p>John laughed.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur’s instruction had lit a fire beneath his belly button and John did not want to waste time on other things and instead focus on building it into an all-encompassing inferno.</p><p> </p><p>The fireplace stood in the center of the cabin, a wall of stone wood all around, a deer’s skull hanging overhead opposite to where the bed was.<br/>John bent to the rough-hewn wooden crate that held the kindling. He selected a good handful.</p><p> </p><p>Carefully placing the kindling on the still glowing embers, he blew on them until flame rose from its sleepy state to greet the offered sacrifice.</p><p> </p><p>He watched the hungry flames take hold of the fuel before adding a handful more then added a couple smaller logs and one big log, then stood up straight.</p><p> </p><p>Returning to the bed, this time managing to avoid the chair and further bashing his toe, he rubbed his hands together blowing into them to gain some warmth.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s colder in here than a witch’s…”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Marston!”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>John chuckled at Arthur’s demanding tone as he grasped the edges of the blankets and crawled into bed aside Arthur’s somewhat warmer body.</p><p> </p><p>John, on his side, wrapped himself around Arthur, one leg thrown over his lower body, his hands sliding down his chest seeking warmth.</p><p> </p><p>“Damnit, Marston! Your hands <em>are</em> blocks of ice, so are ya feet. Did ya <em>stick</em> em in the snow on purpose?”</p><p> </p><p>“Give them a sec, they’ll soon be warm enough.” John murmured in Arthur’s ear.</p><p> </p><p>John nibbled at said ear and began a pattern of light kisses along the exposed neck.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur issued a soft groan.</p><p> </p><p>“Do I know where this is goin?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mmm, I sure hope so.” Came the husky answer fraught with anticipation and mild impatience as John tugged on the union suit that was in the way of his hands.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur shifted on his side in the bed to face John whose eyes were wide with want and desire.</p><p> </p><p>“Just <em>can’t</em> get enough, can ya now?”</p><p> </p><p>John moved his mouth to Arthur’s, catching his bottom lip between his teeth and sucking.</p><p> </p><p>“No, I can’t,’ he mumbled still holding to the lip he was sucking on, “but neither can ya if I recall last night.”</p><p> </p><p>Arthur hummed his agreement as his hands moved over John’s body, roaming freely, kneading and palming.</p><p> </p><p>Moans and grunts of pleasure ascended from John’s busy mouth as he kissed Arthur.</p><p> </p><p>John came undone; he shoved Arthur roughly onto his back and lifted himself to hover over-top Arthur, his brown eyes staring into the twin blue voids that had captured him so often.</p><p> </p><p>He could lose himself there, he thought to himself, amidst that blue, and never once want to return to reality.</p><p> </p><p>In Arthur, he had found his place; a place of comfort, security, happiness and the knowledge that he was needed, and any feelings, that he offered, were returned twice-fold.</p><p> </p><p>Arthur raised one hand and gently outlined the scars on John’s face. He rubbed his thumb over his lips and tugged on the bottom one that slightly quivered with raw ecstasy.</p><p> </p><p>John lowered himself to Arthur’s body and he held to him tight, head on his chest, hearing a heart beat that echoed in response to his own.</p><p> </p><p>He was flooded with a sense of overwhelming peace and happiness, one that he once thought, not too long ago, he would never find.</p><p> </p><p>“Hold me tighter, John, it’s cold in here.”</p><p> </p><p>John held Arthur tighter, and he vowed to never, <em>ever</em> let him go.</p>
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